Mr. L's Final Legacy
Cobb sucked down the last of a Double Gulp, then got out of the car to pay his respects to Mr. L. Cobb spent fourteen years working for the company Mr. L managed. They never met, although Cobb got to see Mr. L from a podium at least once a year. And Cobb got those company-wide e-mails from the man, spelling out how pensions were tied into company health. Cobb put in at least 10 hours of unpaid overtime a week, every week, to keep the company going strong and his retirement plush. Meanwhile, Mr. L was sucking the company dry. The SEC caught him, and then the whole company imploded. An $8 billion pension fund disappeared. All those years of work, and Lowell's reward was to be kicked into a job market with 26,000 other people. Mr. L. had plenty of that pension money to spend on his legal defense, though. His lawyers dragged out the trial so long, Mr. L. died of natural causes before the damn thing was over. Cobb needed to pay his respects to the man. Now that Cobb loaded his bladder, he was prepared to do so. Mr. L. didn't have a big grave: he might have been smart enough to know it'd be a wreck in a week. All he had was a small bronze plaque. Cobb took a glance around the empty cemetery - he couldn't imagine anyone objecting, but still - and unzipped. He had half a gallon of recycled Pepsi to baptize this plaque with. Cobb's initial arc hit the plaque dead center, and Cobb was painfully killed. Mr. L. knew people hated him, and would continue to hate him after death. He had one last surprise for the employees who wished to pay their respects fluidly: an electrified grave. Anyone who completed the circuit wouldn't have to worry about funding their retirement.